


Broken Glass

by Anonymous



Series: The Big Game [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Car Accidents, Crying, Happy Ending, Hospitals, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not Canon Compliant, tw: attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 04:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After the fight following the big football game, Will finds himself close to death when he's involved in a car accident. But the real question is: was it really an accident at all?





	Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for attempted suicide and talk of attempted suicide. Don't read if you don't feel comfortable, stay safe!
> 
> this is a collaborative work I worked on with protectthebyers on tumblr, show her some love! She wrote Will, I wrote Mike!
> 
> thanks for reading!

_ Will leaned over his steering wheel, body shaking with heavy, gasping sobs. His eyes felt swollen, head hurting, but he couldn’t stop the panic that had set his heart rate sky high.  _

_ “S-So  _ stupid _ !” he shouted, gripping the wheel tighter, knuckles turning white. How could he have shouted at Mike like that? The young man was only trying to help. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Mike’s help wasn’t  _ helping _ . As far as Will could see it, he was a lost cause. _

_ He’d known for a long time that putting his issues on Mike was unfair; after all, Mike had his own slew of trauma from the events of their past. Who was he, Will had thought to himself time and time again, to put all of his own baggage onto Mike’s shoulders too? Eventually, his boyfriend would break, and Will himself felt too broken to ever be able to repair that type of damage. _

_ Broken. There was that word again. That one, damning word had bounced around in his brain for years now, and Will had begun to genuinely believe it to be true.  _

_ Mike would be far better off without him. Will knew it in his heart that he was nothing but a burden, a liability. When he was around, people got hurt, or if they got too close, they got burned. Even his mother got caught in the crossfire one too many times. It’s a pattern that he’s seen for a long time, and he refused to let it go on any further.  _

_ Briefly, Will considered running away. He had nearly a full tank of gas; who’s to say he couldn’t steal away in the dead of night, never to be seen again? He owed it to his family to let them move on from the past, and Will knew they couldn’t do that when he couldn’t stop the panic attacks, or nightmares. _

_ Running, though, it would only be temporary. Will knew Hopper would find him, and Joyce would bring him home. Mike would demand answers, and his friends would continue treating him like a responsibility instead of a person. And Will himself, he was so, so tired. Tired of running, and hiding. He was most of all tired of living this way; of being afraid, and useless, and a chore. _

_ His solution needed to be permanent. _

_ Looking up from his lap, Will’s eyes landed on the woods just across the street from the high school’s parking lot, roughly 50 yards ahead. He and his friends had always loved those woods, and had spent more time there than Will could ever begin to recall. His gaze slid from the large oak by the road down to the steering wheel in his hands. He could recall the moment Jonathan had handed over the keys, smiling and telling Will to “take care of his wheels” while he was away at college.  _

_ “I’m s-so,  _ so _ sorry..” he whispered shakily, one hand coming down to shift the car into gear. His forehead came down again, resting on the steering wheel as a sharp, pained cry left his throat, and then the young man focused his sights out of the windshield, took one last breath, and floored it, the tires screeching loudly as he built up the momentum he needed. _

_ The last sound he heard was the grinding, earth-shattering sound of Jonathan’s Ford Galaxie 500 crumpling against the large oak, and the involuntary scream that ripped itself from his throat before the world around him went black. _

|

Mike left his house in a rush. He needed to talk to Will, he needed to fix things. He sprinted in the garage, unlocking his car and turning the key into the ignition, getting the hell on the road. Mike headed straight to the Byers house, fingers tapping against the steering wheel anxiously.

As the teen pulled into the Byers’ driveway, he barely let the car stop before he stepped out to go knock on the door. But he managed. Mike left the engine running as he stomped to the front steps of the all too familiar house. He rang, then knocked--he tended to do too much before he could even register it when he got as nervous as he’d been in that moment. A tired Joyce opened the door abruptly. 

“Can I talk to Will?” Mike headed straight to the point.

“I thought he was with you,” 

She was right. Will’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and, wouldn’t he have answered if he knew it was Mike? Something felt off. 

“Well, he was, and then we got in this huge fight and he said he needed to be alone, so he walked to the parking lot and got in his car,” Mike rushed. Yes. Something was definitely off. He had been home for an hour and Will still wasn’t?

“Do you think he’s still there?” Joyce asked.

“He might be, I mean, I don’t know where else he would go,” the freckled boy reasoned.

“Mike?” she questioned. “Can I go with you? I just--I want to make sure he’s alright.”

“Yeah. The car’s already running.” 

He gestured to the vehicle, and the shorter woman jogged to the driver’s side door. The engine roared as it pulled out of the drive down the winding roads of Hawkins. Will’s mother sat in the driver's side seat, gnawing on her lip anxiously. The silence that blanketed them was filled with bursting nerves and jittery sighs.

At long last the duo arrived in the school parking lot, driving around corners. Mike pushed the door open with a force unknown to man. He popped the trunk, shuffling around for a flashlight. Joyce, on the other hand was already out of the car and shouting for her son as she wandered around restlessly. The parking lot was completely empty. It just didn’t make sense.

And that is when Will’s mother, and his boyfriend had discovered what would start the worst night of their lives. Worse than the upside down, being kidnapped. Because, when he had been kidnapped, they hadn’t been faced with the horror of seeing a disaster unfold right in front of their faces. 

The flashlight shined with a dull ray as Mike pointed into the wooded area that surrounded the highschool campus. A choked gasp could be heard from the woman standing next to him. The woods had turned into a car-accident-scene. And there was Will’s car, Jonathan’s beat up old sports car that he got as a hand-me-down but was still over the moon for anyways… wrapped around a tree. The metal of the hood was bent out of shape, smoke escaped from the radiator like a shadow as the smell instilled him with the fear of god. 

“Mrs. Byers--go, go, you h-have to find a p-phone. Call 9-1-1!” Joyce stared back at him, then trudged toward the front of the school, giving the entrance a pull. She gave the door a hard expression, realizing that it was locked before punching straight through the glass. The Wheeler boy cringed as he made his way over to the car. 

His scope of vision was corrupted by a smoky atmosphere by the time he drew closer to the car. It was hard not to cough and he wasn’t quite sure if his eyes were watering purely because his soul was on the brink of tears or because it was so hard to keep his eyes open without catching smoke straight to the retinas. 

The first thought in his head as he saw Will’s unconscious figure within the shadows was  _ oh my god _ . The second was not a thought but an action as his scared brain ran completely on impulse, reaching for the broken body inside. The windows were shattered, and he howled out in pain.

His boyfriend sat shallowly breathing inside of the destroyed automobile. Joyce came speeding back up to the car, coughing and crying. 

“I can’t tell if he’s breathing, but he’s definitely unconscious,” Mike let out through tears as he noticed that she was back. The woman gasped as she caught a glimpse of the young man’s left forearm; the glass had sliced all the way from the bottom of his hand to the pit of his elbow. Onto his shoes dripped the blood from his arm as he tried not to look at it… or think about it. There were nicks and cuts all around the giant gash on his other arm and on both hands. 

Not long after Joyce took the time to lecture Mike about not getting himself all cut up, Hopper appeared, and so did an ambulance. Both Joyce and Mike sobbed as the paramedics cut Will out of that seatbelt after having ripped the steel door of the car off its hinges. Neither of them could look. The chief wrapped the duo into a tight hug as the workers loaded Will onto a stretcher. 

Joyce made them take Mike to the hospital in order for him to get the medical attention he required. So, he trudged up to the door and sat down in the back next to his boyfriend and immediately reached to hold his hand, and was scolded by paramedics. The freckle-faced teen began to cry again. Why couldn’t he hold the boy’s hand? It blew over his head as his brain neglected to process any of the information it was being fed. He wasn’t allowed to hold his hand because of the glass, and the fact that Will was injured, unconscious, and there were also paramedics surrounding both of them. 

The drive to Hawkins Memorial went on for what felt like an eternity, even though it only lasted for all of two minutes as the ambulance’s lights glared and screeched through minimal traffic. No one in Hawkins was driving this late besides the occasional group of teenagers who would probably be on their way home from a raging party. The light that spilled out of the emergency room was enough to guide Mike to sanity and clarity until he got inside.

Suddenly things were ten times more complicated as the rest of the party had entered the hospital along with Hop and Joyce. “What the hell happened?” Lucas drilled as the others stood behind him. 

“I-uh, after the game, we talked. I got really frustrated, and we got into this huge argument. He said he needed to be alone, then he walked to his car, and I drove home. I went home--and I... I came out to my mom--but that’s not important right now.” Mike blabbered then continued, “So anyways, I went to his house after I left mine, and he wasn’t there. So Mrs. Byers came with me to the school and we looked for him in the parking lot, but it was completely empty. Then we--uh, we found his car at the tree line, he must’ve c-c-crashed into it while was swerving out of the way for an animal or something. But it was basically around this giant tree.”

He couldn’t hold it in any longer; he started sobbing once again. Dustin hugged him and the others joined as they all stood in the middle of the hospital’s waiting room hoping with everything in them that their best friend would be alright. 

It wasn’t long before the group took a notice to Mike’s arm. El was hugging him, and got blood on her pajama shirt. “Uh, Mike,” she gasped, the rest of the group made a various array of shocked noises as their eyes landed on Mike’s injury. “You’re going to need stitches, majorly.” Max confirmed. The fire haired girl was right, his arm was dripping a puddle onto the floor.

Mike thought as he sat down in front of the doctor who was stitching him up, maybe this isn’t so bad. But what he hadn’t recalled was the fact that he’d passed out at the thought of a needle going through his arm more than once. One of the nurses sedated him while he was sleeping. Then, the curly-haired boy woke up and he was on a table, his arm felt weirdly numb and his brain foggy. Stitches took forever, he needed thirty of them.

Hopper busted through the doors of the waiting room from inside the ER, Joyce followed. Mike took immediate notice to this and attempted to move from his spot on the table. Dustin held him back, Joyce gestured for him to stay. 

“What’d they say???” he asked, wide eyed and terrified. Hopper paused for a second in contemplation, Mike frustratedly repeated himself. “What did they say?” 

“They don’t know yet, okay, but they think it could be bad. There’s definitely head trauma; they think he might’ve hit his head on the windshield during impact. They have him in surgery, something about working to get the internal bleeding under control.” 

Head trauma? That had to be bad, right? Mike froze up in a blind panic as he registered the information that had just  _ barely _ left the chief’s mouth without hesitation. Outside his head, none of the other conversations were being registered, he only thought of the worst case scenario. What if it was worse than the doctors thought? What if Will died?

The Wheeler boys’ own head tortured him. How could he have been so god damn stupid? He yelled at his boyfriend who he loves, and got angry over something that had nothing to do with him. Externally, tears were streaming down his face, El asked him what was wrong. 

“I’m uh, just, kinda feeling like this whole thing is my fault... he never would’ve gotten into that stupid fucking car if we hadn’t started fighting. I swear it’s like-” 

“It’s like what?” The girl asked him. 

“Like, just, nevermind… I don’t think I can do any of this without crying.” Tears. So many tears. “I need to take a walk,” he said as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. 

He stood up, walking out of the waiting room to the parking lot. The boy stood outside, foot bouncing against pavement before he began pacing. Pacing turned into walking and before everyone knew it, he was walking lap after lap around the hospital until the sun peeked into the sky the following morning. Lucas and Dustin dragged him away from his nervous habit with more of a struggle than they’d expected. 

Once he was back inside he’d realized that he was suddenly and immediately exhausted. He took a seat next to Joyce on the bench. For a while, neither of them said anything before Joyce broke the silence with, “He’s been out, and off anesthesia for about an hour... he hasn’t woken up yet and they’re not sure when he will. And they think… well they think he might not. But that’s not important. What’s important is that we’ve got better odds if he makes it through the first twenty-four hours.” 

The first few hours were rough and full of panic, but everyone proceeded with great hope, faith in Will and the medical staff attending to him. Twenty-four hours seemed to fly by in a blink. But he had somehow made it through the night. It was a small victory, but one that instilled them with confidence.

Hours turned into days, which turned into a week, which turned into two, and then the beginning of the third. Mike, Joyce and Hopper were beginning to lose the faith they had previously possessed, it was, to say the least, depressing. So the days drug on with a dismal pattern of rainy, which coincidentally was the same as Mike’s mood. He stared up from the floor at the bed where will lay; his pale skin plagued with enough tubing and wire to run for miles. The tube he needed to breathe, which made Mike too sad to think about, multiple IV drips, and feeding tube. 

As hopes began to sink, the party got a sign that Will was slowly beginning to pull himself from his slumber. There was increased activity in the brain, almost all of the swelling had corrected itself and he was beginning to heal from the surgery. 

And then it happened. The smaller boys eyes fluttered open on a Friday afternoon, the first sunny day within the last week or so. It made sense to Mike, and he took it as more of a sign. He’d never believed in fate, or miracles; but the fact that Will woke up on the first sunny day made so much sense. Will had been the sun in Mike’s life for as long as he remembered. And the sun was coming back to him. So it was only natural that the sun came back to the rest of the world as well.

|

Waking up was a lot of things for Will. It was slow, and disorienting, and intensely painful.

He could hear before he could see, and Will let out the weakest groan. The young man registered the pain in his neck, radiating into his head in the worst way. A whimper fell from his mouth, and that’s when he heard his brother's voice.   
  
“We need a nurse in here, now! He’s waking up!”

Will knew, though, that he had to be imagining things. Jonathan was in New York, not Hawkins. However, when he felt a familiar hand on his head, he had to believe. His brother was gentle, as if being so incredibly careful. He behaved as if Will were a fragile, delicate being. 

Will both loved and hated him for it. 

It took Will a long time to force his eyes open, but when he finally did, a small panic shot through his body; everything had a haze to it, refused to come into focus, and he was scared, confused. 

“Whoa, easy,” Jonathan whispered, and he was sure that his brother noticed the panic. “The doc said you might need glasses. You’re gonna be alright buddy, I’ve gotcha.”

“W-What..?” he managed, “Where am I..?” 

“You’re at Hawkins Memorial, bud. You ran off the road, but you’re gonna be alright, I promise. Mom’s here too, and Hop.”

“M-Mike…?”

“Yeah, Mike too. He’s in the family waiting room. Mom forced him to go to sleep,” he heard Jonathan chuckle quietly, but there wasn’t much humor behind it. 

As his brain slowly started to wake up, Will began to register different things; there was a sharp pain when he breathed, and his back hurt something awful. The more he thought about it, his entire body did. He felt as though his legs wanted to move, but when he tried to bend his knee, nothing happened. Eyes shooting open once more, Will forced himself to sit up, meeting resistance from Jonathan, who insisted he lie back down. 

“What’s wrong with my legs?!” Will pleaded, eyes watering, and Jonathan swore quietly, shouting for a nurse a second time.

|

Damage to his cerebellum. That’s what they told Will. This small part of his brain controlled so, so much, and he lost a lot when his head went the wrong way and caused too much bleeding.

His chances of regaining what he’d lost, the doctors told him, were significant. He was so young, and the damage had been minimal. The damage to his vision, he was told, came from a different place in his brain, and was likely permanent. 

None of this information mattered to Will the first time he heard it. He was angry, hurting, and all he wanted to do was to go home. 

“Mr. Byers?” a nurse knocked at his door, and Will glanced up; her image was still fuzzy, but they’d already evaluated his vision and had promised him a pair of glasses very soon.

“Y-Yes?” he answered, voice still scratchy from the tube he’d had down his throat for the past two weeks. 

“Good morning,” she smiled, “My name’s Gina, and I was just coming in to check on you. How are you feeling today?”

“Uh.. well, my chest hurts,” he replied, voice cracking near the end.

“Mm, I’d expect so,” she replied in a sympathetic tone, “You cracked several ribs, and those are never quick to heal. How’s your throat doing?”

“Sore. Can I go home now?”

“Not just yet,” she smiled sadly, “You only woke up two days ago, and we need to monitor you for a bit. You’re stable as of right now, but we need to run more tests to make sure it’s safe for you to leave.”

Frowning, Will wrapped his arms around himself, eyes watering. Sure, they’d taken him off of the machines, and the IV drips, but he still hated being in the hospital. Going home would be a relief for him, and would make it easier to avoid the questions everyone kept bombarding him with.

Easier to avoid Mike.

Will had admittedly been thrilled to see his boyfriend when he’d finally woken up. He was scared, and disoriented, and Mike’s quiet voice had soothed his fears. But now that Will was out of the woods, for better or for worse, he was certain the young man would have questions, and Will wasn’t prepared or willing to answer a single one of them.

After Will had regained his senses, he couldn’t bring himself to look Mike in the eyes; he’d told his boyfriend it was an accident. A deer ran across the road, and he got scared, and had swerved to avoid it. A simple, stupid mistake. Mike had bought it easily, and Will still wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

The nurse made a few more notes on her board, asked a few more questions, then smiled and reached into her pocket. “Got something for you. This’ll help you out.”

Opening the box she handed to him, Will could make out a blurry, almost rectangular shape, and when he reached inside, he knew instantly what they were; glasses. He’d asked for a smaller pair, black-rimmed if possible, anything but tortoise shell. Holding them closer to his face, he could tell they came through with his request, and putting them on, he sighed softly, relieved to see everything come back into focus the way it should.

“Better?” the nurse asked, and he could finally see her facial details; young, plain but still pretty, with a lovely smile that made him feel bad for having a previous resentment against her.

“Much better, thank you,” he managed to smile back, but his smile waned a bit when he heard a knock on the doorframe and looked over to see his tall boyfriend standing in the doorway. 

“Mike?” he asked, “What are you doing here so early? Are you.. That’s the same outfit you wore yesterday. My vision might suck, but it doesn’t suck that bad. Did you go home last night?” 

The thought of Mike not going home, of staying here with him, was enough to melt away his resistance, and he reached a hand out, eyes watering a bit as Mike sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“I never went home... figured I should stay if you were waking up. How do you feel?” 

Will frowned, thumb stroking the back of Mike’s hand. “Have you slept at all?” he asked, avoiding Mike’s question entirely.

“No. but that doesn’t matter, not at all. I owe you an apology.” Mike said, and he did. He couldn’t stop the guilt from digging at him no matter what he did. This whole thing was up to him to apologize for, and he knew it.

Will furrowed his eyebrows at this, and looked back up to meet Mike’s eyes. “Apologize? No, you… Mike, none of this was your fault. It… It was just a stupid accident. You didn’t do this to me,” he frowned, shaking his head.

“That’s the thing, Will. I did. We got in that dumb fight and I never should’ve said any of that stuff. Truth is, it doesn’t matter. Football doesn’t mean anything to me and I was going to quit eventually. I only had to tell my mom the truth and I-” 

“Mike,” he interrupted, gripping his boyfriend’s hand as best he could, “You didn’t cause this. I promise,” Will murmured, bringing Mike’s hand to his lips and kissing the young man’s knuckles. “This wasn’t your fault. I don’t want you blaming yourself for this, okay..? Please, please don’t. I’m okay, and we’re going to make it. That’s what’s important.”

Mike said nothing in return, he didn’t have the slightest clue what to say. He was expecting Will to be mad. And somehow he wasn’t? It made his stomach turn. The boy stared down at the floor, needing so badly to avoid eye contact.. Just, interaction in general. He felt one emotion only, it came back around full circle to guilt.

“Hey, you know I love you, right? I love you so, so much Mike,” Will smiled weakly, “Even if we do fight sometimes. I love everything about you. We’re gonna be okay, alright? I need you to know that.” With those words, he sighed and leaned against his pillows, eyelids heavy. “I really, really wanna go home..”

“I love you too,  _ so much _ ,” he let out with a bit of relief, “Do you think they’d yell at me if I tried to sneak you out?”

Will finally let out a weak laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Not only would they yell at you, but you’d probably be banned from coming to see me. Good luck with that though, because you’ll need a wheelchair. Can’t walk, remember?” his voice cracked slightly at the end, a bitterness seeping into his tone.

Mike began awkwardly, “Yeah...yeah I know.” It felt weird being speechless around his boyfriend, but had he responded with another apology, a lecture about how he didn’t need to apologize would suffice. He didn’t think he was ready for another one of those. All he needed now was to sleep. For a long time. Without interruption. 

Things were silent for a moment before Will’s hand travelled up Mike’s good arm. “They’d probably yell at you if you laid down with me, too… But I’ll be honest with you, I’m willing to take that risk, if you are,” he smiled weakly, eyes exhausted as he looked up at Mike. 

“I don’t think it would be very fair of them to yell at me if I collapse from exhaustion. Is that buyable? Hm… I am pretty tired,” he yawned, climbing up into the bed where he tried to make sure will had the room he needed. If he let himself get tired enough, it was easy to curl up and pretend everything was fine. So that’s exactly what he did. 

“Mm, absolutely, considering the past few weeks that we’ve had,” Will muttered, already half asleep before Mike’s head ever hit the pillow.’

|

It had been a long weekend for both Mike and Will, though moving day had been last week. The apartment wasn’t the largest place in the world, but it was theirs to share. The party had been kind enough to help them, too. Cleaning and folding boxes, generally getting settled in was more draining than either of them anticipated, and that part moved along quickly. It was after being settled in that Will painted on the canvas set up in the kitchen while Mike wrote his newest ideas for a plot in a bullet journal, that the tiredness began to weigh on them.

It was only three in the afternoon when Mike prompted his boyfriend, “I’m getting the urge to take a really long nap, like  _ hours _ long.” he whined. 

Will laughed softly, glancing over at his boyfriend before returning to his painting. “Yeah? We haven’t even done all that much today, and you’re already wanting to head back to bed?” His hands shook slightly as he applied the brush to canvas, a side effect from the wreck, but it didn’t affect the painting noticeably, something Will was thankful for. 

“Y’know, I was thinking the same thing,” he paused, “And then I thought, ‘Wow, I don’t have to live under the same roof as my parents anymore… so that means I can kiss my boyfriend whenever I want. We can also take naps in the same bed together.’ Because moving is exhausting. So what d’you say?” 

“Why, Mr. Wheeler,” Will murmured, smiling as he settled his brush into a cup of water, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re just trying to get me into bed,” he teased, though he did stretch his arms out in front of him before standing carefully and moving to rest his hands on Mike’s shoulders. “After long consideration, I’ve decided you’re right. Why not, right? We’ve earned it.”

“I believe we have,” Mike said as he stood up, grabbing Will’s hand and pulling him gently into the hallway. Will stepped into the bedroom first, his boyfriend following suit. Mike looked up, traveling toward the bed and flopping down on his pillow without a care in the world. He glanced at the ceiling for a moment, not drifting as he took a moment to admire the shorter young man. He knew without a doubt; this was the life he’d been waiting to have. 

Will was smiling gently to himself as he moved around their room, pulling off the clothes he’d been painting in and dropping them by the dresser, grabbing a cleaner shirt from the laundry basket on the floor as he asked, “Hey, did you uh, did you really come out to your parents that night? Three years ago, I mean,” He trailed off a bit as he walked into their attached bathroom to wash the paint off his arms, but he still spoke clearly enough to be heard. “You told me you did, but we never did discuss it after that night.”

“Well, I mean, yeah--you know my dad already knew, but I told my mom about it. I was really surprised, but she doesn’t hate me and she gave my dad hell for blackmailing me, so it worked out alright.” 

“I’m glad it did,” Will answered back, frowning as he scrubbed at his arm, a particularly stubborn bit of paint refusing to come off. “You were so much happier after that, despite what happened. I could tell it really lifted a weight off your chest.”

“I think it did more than just that, I mean, I decided that if I wanted to stop speaking to my dad, I could do that at my convenience… but it also means I got to be with you… you know… as openly as I can be without having to announce myself to everyone.” he admitted, then continued, “It feels good.”

“Mm, I bet,” Will nodded, walking out of the bathroom carrying a hand towel. He was drying his arms and hands, a soft smile on his face. “Cutting him off was probably the best decision you could’ve made, though, and I’m happy for you.”

“You’re right…” Mike trailed off, “Is it weird for me to miss having him around though? I mean I know he screwed me over, but it's just strange to think about. Nancy said it was fine that I cut it out but, she also did it with me, so, it’s the same for her too. Am I overthinking it?” He definitely was.

“What? No, no you’re not,” Will reassured his boyfriend, shaking his head a bit as he reached to the floor to pick up his discarded clothes. “I cut Lonnie out years ago, and it was honestly one of the best decisions I’d ever made. He’s an asshole,” Will grumbled, grabbing some dirty jeans from the bedside to throw into the hamper as well.

“Did he ever even call? After you got out of the hospital? Did he even know?” Mike hounded, he felt like he was being bothersome, but still, Will answered back. 

Scoffing, Will let out a humorless laugh. “You kidding? He hasn’t called since he thought I was dead when I was 12. He probably doesn’t even know I’m alive, and honestly, I like it that way. Screw him,” he frowned a little, scooting the hamper back over to the corner before walking over to the closet. “I’ll be in bed in a second, just gotta pick my clothes out for tomorrow. I’ve got this art thing, and I don’t want to show up looking like a crazy person. Don’t worry about driving me, Jonathan’s gonna pick me up at 9.” 

“I’ve got a question... I uh, I don’t really know how to ask so I’m just going to. That night of the accident, was it--was it  _ really _ an accident?” He was over the edge of his nerves; was that even a question he should ask? Silence boiled over the room, before he almost just said ‘screw it, never mind, it was stupid to ask in the first place.’ But he didn’t. He’d been thinking about it for a few months, be he’d known of it since the year mark of it happening. It felt selfish to shut it out, but it wasn’t something he could think about.

Will froze where he stood, a shirt on its hanger still in his hand, and he stared down at the floor a minute, trying to decide how to answer. After three years, intense physical therapy, and his body having to overcome what he’d done to himself, all the while Mike having to deal with this right by his side, he decided Mike finally deserved the truth. “No… uh, no, it wasn’t.. I lied. I’m.. I’m sorry, Mike,” he whispered, frowning a little as he hung the shirt back up. “I.. look, before you say anything, it wasn’t your fault,” he reassured, voice getting tight, eyes watering. “It  _ wasn’t. _ I’d just… I snapped, and it was a stupid, horrible mistake, and I didn’t tell you because-”

“Will,” he said as he put the pieces together in his head, “It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel nervous to tell me about it. I just, it’s been weighing on me lately.” And it had, there were so many things that took him such a long time to register. Like how Will had managed to run into a tree when the woods weren’t close enough to the high school campus for that to have happened. How his hands had been gripped on the steering wheel when Mike found him. He wondered for a long time before he realized that when Will suffered, he never made a point of it to let anyone else know. So was that night any different?

Will swallowed thickly before closing the closet door, sitting down on the edge of the bed with his back to his boyfriend. “I’d been feeling like I was letting everyone down… and I just kept lashing out at the people I loved the most. I’d bitten your head off more times that year than I care to recall, and it wasn’t just you. But I felt useless, too. I mean, you and the party, and my family too, you all treated me like I would break at the drop of a hat. I guess I was just… so, so tired of feeling like I was your chore, or your burden. I thought… Maybe you’d be better off without me,” he admitted, hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

Mike started to cry too, “I can’t say I’m mad… cause I’m not, I just don’t know why you didn’t think to tell me those things.” 

Will’s heart clenched up at the tremor in Mike’s voice, and he whispered out, “I-I didn’t want to put that on you, Mike… I n-never want to do that to you, but then I just wound up putting a whole, whole lot more on your sh-shoulders.. And I am so,  _ so _ sorry, Mike…” 

“See, there’s the problem, you care so much about everyone and everything around you that you forget that you have needs too. And your needs, at least for me, go above anything else. I don’t care if I’m tired, or hurting, or pissed off. We need to talk when things get hard so that nothing like that happens again. I almost lost you--and I’m not  _ ever _ willing to roll those dice again. I would have never forgiven myself.” He said through a thick bout of tears, and scooted towards the edge of the bed, reaching out to hold his boyfriend’s hands.

  
  


Will looked up at Mike, the man's image a little blurry; he’d left his glasses in the bathroom. However, Will didn’t need them to know there was love in those dark brown eyes, and Will leaned forward, letting himself be enveloped in Mike’s arms. “I-I’m so sorry I did this to us, Mike,” he whimpered. “I made you t-take care of me, and I was pr-practically useless for so  _ long _ , and I lied to you the whole time, but you stayed. G-God, I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he finally let out a choked sob, turning his face to bury his nose in Mike’s neck. 

“I don’t think there was anything you could’ve done to make me leave. And you didn’t make me take care of you… don’t you think that if I really wanted to leave, I would have done it already? There’s absolutely no way that you’re getting rid of me.” he reassured as he rubbed circled into Will’s back. 

“E-even though I lied to you..?” He asked weakly, his heart aching painfully. “I-I promise I’ll never lie to you again, Mike,” he breathed, shaking his head a little. “You.. I don’t know how I got so lucky.. you deserve someone whose mind and body isn’t so-so  _ broken… _ ”

“Honestly, I think I knew on the first anniversary; I just remember you not even looking me in the face the whole day. And I thought to myself, “Why does he feel so guilty for something that was an accident?” he sighed when Will lifted himself off of Mike and they looked each other in the eyes. “I don’t think you’re broken, Will. And you don’t need fixing, either. You are who you are and you make me so happy I don’t want you to ever forget that. .” 

Will leaned in, resting their foreheads together as his lower lip trembled. “You’re a good man, Mike Wheeler… D’you know that..? You are so, so good to me..” Will meant every word and genuinely hoped Mike believed it. “You helped me walk again, a-and you took care of me, did things for me that I couldn’t do on my own,” His voice cracked, wavered as the memories came back; Mike helping him bathe, get dressed. Things no young person ever would think they’d have to endure. “Y-you made sure I ate until I could do it myself, Mike, a-and I just-“ he let out another weak sob, arms circling around Mike's shoulders. “You’re such a  _ good man _ , Mike..”

“I have no reason not to be good to you because you have never been good to yourself.” 

Will let out a louder sob at Mikes words, heart threatening to snap in two. He knew Mike was right, and that positively killed him inside. He’d never once been kind to himself, but Mike noticed it before Will ever did. “G-God, I just.. I-I know I have you because of that,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I-I was given you to show me how to be kind to myself. Th-they say you can’t.. can’t love anyone until you love yourself, but I know that’s bullshit. I f-fucking  _ hated _ myself for so long, Mike, but you..? Loving you made me fall back in love with myself..” He admitted, curling his fingers into Mikes worn-out T-shirt. “Y-you did that, all on your own.”

“Maybe I did, but I think that being alive, living, and being  _ okay _ did more than I ever could, and that was all you,” Mike replied back. “You made it through.”

  
  



End file.
